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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794121">Who Are You Really?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ackerhardt/pseuds/Ackerhardt'>Ackerhardt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1920's, Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Bipolar Vox, Demon Deals, Demon Vox, Disordered Eating, Domestic Violence, Electrocution, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Hurt/No Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Instability, No Smut, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Touching, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killers, Time Travel, Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Unhealthy Relationships, Vox Is In Hell For A Reason</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:27:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ackerhardt/pseuds/Ackerhardt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Vox's time, just as he gets the trust of Alastor in Hell, the deer demon disappears. No forewarning, no signs and nothing to go by. Years pass before Vox is ready to accept that The Radio Demon, for whatever reason, was gone for good. Not being able to fully handle the realization, he finds a way to not only go to the living world, but travel in time through it. </p><p>Thus Vox goes for a twisted attempt at a do-over by traveling to 1921, where he hopes to find Alastor while he was still alive. There he intends to learn more about the mysterious radio host while he can, before ultimately killing him, to once again send him back to Hell with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alastor &amp; Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor &amp; Alastor's Mother (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With a deep breath, Alastor stopped, taking a moment to catch his breath. A deep rumbling had started to ravage the land, along with its flashing lights. Every now and again the rumbling would be interrupted by a more sporadic higher pitched blast, a sound that left one’s ears ringing if listened to too closely. More of a constant was the howling of the wind, the same wind that threatened to topple trees, if the lightning left them standing. </p><p>Rain came and soaked through everything Alastor had, leaving a deep weary tiredness with it. All the running was tiring enough on its own, the rain flowing in tracks down the length of his body certainly did not help things. Still, despite the cold, the wet, the ringing and the sentiment, he’d have to keep moving. </p><p>The bayou and the surrounding forest had an ominous tone to it in this weather, especially with the flashes illuminating everything at a time. The peaceful sounds of wildlife also remained muffled and nonexistent against the domineering nature of the storm brewing. Everything seemed different and warped, as if Alastor hadn’t spent years getting to know every crevice of this place. </p><p>Barking, the distant noise of barking, that’s what it took to send him back into action. Running on top of a levee, that stood next to a small river. Or normally a small river if it wasn’t flooding like it was now. Not much time until it would flow in his direction, it was hard to tell through the rain though. </p><p>He wanted to stop, stop and take a breather again, the barking had dissipated again, he reasoned. A small relief perhaps, and a sudden small silence, a break in between the sky that sounded like it was tearing apart at its seams. But no, no relief came with the once desired silence, no with silence accompanied his presence. The shrill whine of a frequency that he knew did not exist here, a reminder that he, he was still there. Waiting, biding, whispering. Who was he really running from? </p><p>Alastor forced himself to an abrupt halt, a deep cliff before him. Before, he would’ve laughed at his foolishness and for the clichè setting he’d found himself in. It was a simple turn to keep running, to avoid the mutts on his tail and eventually return back to his home. A place where he could enjoy the lovely phenomenon that was this weather, inside the comfortable safety of his cabin walls. </p><p>Another abrupt flash tore open the sky, as Alastor winced at the sound that came a few seconds after. He was practically right under the worst of it, judging from the closeness of light and sound. With the sound, he felt a sudden loss of balance, almost like a push. With a terrifying realization, he came to realize there was no footing behind him to steady himself on. That could only mean one thing. Another flash interrupted everything as it lit up something, a something that blended well with the blackness of the sky and the light blue of the flash. Half a second of ear-piercing static. </p><p>If the howling had felt overpoweringly strong before, falling added to it tenfold. The wind cut through him, only worsened by how much rain was still covering him. In a few more seconds that wouldn’t even matter, whatever pain that remained would be cut off by the impact. As elongated seconds passed through, he realized the sound of rushing water was fast approaching. Everything was taking so long and Alastor had no idea why his mother was here, why would he see her now of all times?</p><p>He never heard the sickening crack of the impact and over this storm, no one else did either. All he could focus on was the terribly sharp but dull ache in his head. The back felt ready to explode, while the front had been washed over by a sense of numbness. Nothing felt able to move and he couldn’t feel his back at all. The still mercilessly cold rain pelted him and mixed in with the warm sticky fluid running from various areas on his body, mostly his upper back and head. His hometown looked like it was positively glowing, which was odd to him, considering he’d always disliked the area. There she was again, his mother, his only true friend and ally, stood in front, a radiant smile on her features like it always was. </p><p>All the sounds had vanished, everything beyond him might as well have disappeared. But with the silence, came the true horror again. Everything came back to him, everything but normal sounds, as he angled his eyes towards the left of him. He couldn’t move anymore, but he didn’t need to, not to see the cyan colored glowing of the box headed, tall, oddly apperanced being. He, the being, widened its glowing grin far beyond any natural length. </p><p>“Looks like it’s game over for you Al.” </p><p>Alastor moved his sights back to the sky, already feeling too heavy and feeling his vision too unfocused to do anything more. He could’ve felt a lot of things at that moment, defeat, shame, fear, foreboding, sadness, guilt or anger, but his time was too short to feel any one of those. Instead, they became a weird amalgamate of emotions, or a horrifying semblance of emotions. </p><p>The sky lit up once more, and this time, the sound followed. How fitting truly, this weather had been what started this mess, now it was the very thing that was going to end it. Who knew he’d be ending the same time as the year 1933. How unfortunate, but, what was the use in crying about it, ‘smile’ he’d say to everyone else. He felt his lips tug upwards, just as he felt the thing watch him, until he felt nothing at all. </p><p>--</p><p>Alastor hummed as he tidied up his place. The cabin usually did not remain very dirty on its own, unless it was the day of his hobby. Then he’d have quite the mess on his hands. Today however, he had nothing to do. Thunder and lightning was raging outside, more violently then he’d remembered seeing in awhile. This was no day for hunting or broadcasting for that matter. When he’d begun his work, he’d let everyone know that he did not and would not work during thunderstorms. </p><p>This weather was a more interesting way to start 1921 in his opinion. It wasn’t that he minded per say, it was just curious. One of the ladies down by the town would argue that it was a bad omen, and that was utter nonsense, but still curious. </p><p>The radio sitting on his desk was tuned to some music casted by another local radio network, although the signal came out garbled at best. It served more as a form of white noise, the real spectacle was the thunderstorm outside his window. The flashing of lightning and the sound of thunder came at the same time, showing how close to the source his cabin happened to be. If Alastor was lucky, he’d see the actual lightning itself, with its odd and twisted shapes. </p><p>The rain was rough against the rough and remained the most loud and constant noise, the drops were quite big and small streams had begun to form around the forest area. Trees were being pushed into a constant crooked stance by the wind. Leaves and branches would soon be falling all over the place, covering the ground. This brought the only legitimate concern Alastor had, if a tree fell on the cabin, that would be disastrous all around. He’d gotten rid of all the closest and weakest trees near his home, but that didn’t completely spare him. </p><p>Even after quite some time, the weather showed no signs of relenting. So Alastor finally sat back down again, simply staring out the window while thinking. He could talk about the thunderstorm during his next session, or he could joke about its unforeseen arrival. It had settled over quickly without any form warning. Not one person had been able to say that it was going to be such an intense storm. </p><p>Lightning struck ground somewhere out of his sight, but left a piercing blast in its wake. It was quite rare to have it hit ground, as it usually found other outlets. Hopefully nothing caught fire that shouldn’t, though with this rain, it wouldn’t last too long. Alastor debated whether to go check just in case, or leave it be. He decided not to go outside, but to quickly see from the opposing window if he saw anything concerning. First and second glance brought nothing, meaning he wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of the cabin for now. </p><p>Alastor startled as the radio suddenly cut into a deep high pitched whine, a sound he’d never heard before. Was the storm truly messing with the signal that badly? It was a terrible noise and so he shut it off to spare his ears. The scare by the radio left him tense and he felt his anxiety rise. He couldn’t figure out why he felt this way, just a deep internal gut feeling. His earlier peaceful mood was replaced by one of dread, and he had yet to find why making the whole ordeal that much more disconcerting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Before anyone starts reading this. I have to say, there is extreme violence and very disturbing themes ahead. This is not a healthy relationship at all, I don’t really believe in demon/human relations, so it’s a pretty disturbing dynamic here too. </p><p>If you want something happier, go to my other Alastor/Vox piece of work, that’s more nice and more fluffy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Recording a broadcast always brought Alastor a good mood. It was so entertaining and rewarding. Talking to people without actually having to care about their input or irksome emotions was something he’d always enjoy. Why bother listening to people talk about something he didn’t care about? Why trouble himself with answering or avoiding questions that he didn’t want to answer? Instead he could talk about relevant topics, earn his keep and avoid suspicion regarding his hobbies. Speaking of his hobbies, he hadn’t gone hunting for awhile now. A new bearcat had entered the block, the lively ones always were the most fun. He was going to have to leave that for later, he hadn’t even swooned her yet! </p><p>His trusty cabin greeted him as he stared at it with an impassive smile. Alastor had to admit, he was grateful for the offer that the landowner had given him. It was quite pricey, but with the easy loan from the bank, he’d been able to purchase the land. That reminded him, he’d have to look further into his investments as well, everyone was doing it after all! Besides, everything was affordable now, unlike in the past. Alastor could remember his mother desperately trying her best to get him toys and the like when he was a child. He’d always told her it wasn’t necessary, he’d had his own ideas of fun even back then. </p><p>Alastor hung his coat, discarded his shoes and already felt more relaxed. It added to his earlier high of his job. He felt positively energized, so he decided to cook up a meal for himself. Maybe a nicely simmered gumbo would do. A little taste of home, if he may. Jambalaya would’ve hit closer to home, but he was out of stock for the required ingredients. Clearly he’d have to pay a visit to the grocery shop, there were plenty by town. </p><p>With a fluid motion, Alastor turned on the radio, listening to whatever station he’d happened to tune into yesterday. Mostly he wanted to see if it would act up again, or if the storm had been the only reason for its malfunction. He truly hoped he wouldn’t have to seek a replacement, oh the hassle that would be. Nothing happened that shouldn’t, filling Alastor with a sense of relief. With no further need to inspect the radio he reached for the cutlery and needed ingredients. The more he thought about food, the more he found himself craving it. Besides, who didn’t enjoy cooking? It was simple, flexible and was a practical hobby. No one ever regretted learning to cook, humans do still require food after all. </p><p>With impressive precise movements Alastor got the gumbo going, now needed to leave it to simmer. It was a dish that took quite a while to prepare after all. Maybe he’d invite his newest doe to that event down by the dance club. It was the perfect opportunity to steal her away for the night, and then permanently after that. It was always easier when so many people weren’t acquainted with his target, less heartbreak meant less sympathy from the authorities. Better yet, he could invite her under the guise of a blind date. Well, that letter sure wasn’t going to write itself, he’d have to get right on it now! </p><p>Alastor headed towards his desk, pulling out a piece of paper from the compartment it sported. With his other hand he reached for the red fountain pen set on his desk. Once in hand, he began to think of the best approach to the invitation. What was charming yet not incredulous? Bold yet trepiduous? Sophisticated but not a bluenose? What a cumbersome task writing could turn out to be, and he hadn’t even started the actual writing. </p><p>Distracting his thoughts, the radio shut off abruptly, before letting out an extremely high pitched scream esque sound. Alastor had turned on his seat, before covering his ears at the near deafening sound. Luckily it stopped almost as quickly as it had started, but as the radio seemingly died, it took out the rest of Alastor’s cabin’s power with it. Merde, he thought as he went over to the crackling radio that sat on top of the kitchen counter. His ears still had a soft ringing and his earlier chipper mood had all but disappeared. This would turn out to be a hassle after all. </p><p>“Well, well, isn’t this interesting?” </p><p>Alastor had never reached for a knife faster in his life than it that moment. He whipped around to face the intruder, there was something about the voice that chilled him. In the split second he’d heard it, it hadn’t seemed natural, almost as if someone spoke through a radio, but somehow with sounding more human like? There was no probably way to describe it, except as unnatural and as something he’d never heard before. If the sound of its voice had disturbed Alastor, nothing could prepare him for the sight he was greeted with when he had turned around. </p><p>He was ashamed to admit, but he froze in place, dropping his knife and stared in poorly hidden shock. A tall, at least 7 feet tall, thing stood in the middle of Alastor’s living room. It was impossibly slim with cyan colored claw shaped fingers and most prominently a glowing multi colored box for a head. Well, it was technically a rectangle, but it was the face like features on it that demanded the attention of the observer. Currently its features were settled on a disproportionate grin to its brightly red colored eyes. If Alastor didn’t know any better, the thing seemed almost pleased by his reaction. Although, Alastor was too busy recovering from the shock and from inspecting the strange thing to care. It wore a cyan pinstriped black tuxedo with a striped undershirt and dress pants. </p><p>After awhile of both of them inspecting the other, it folded its hand behind its back. Its disturbing and oddly colored grin growing with the silence. Only now was Alastor wondering why such an abomination would have happened to choose his home to disturb. What could this thing really want from him? He knew he hadn’t summoned any form of demonic entity, had someone else brought this curse upon him?</p><p>“You’re Alastor I presume.” It spoke his name with familiarity. A concept that deeply unsettled Alastor. There was a heavy silence as the thing waited for Alastor’s response. </p><p>“You’re here for me personally?” Alastor had to use an astounding amount of self control to school his expression. A small passive smile. </p><p>“How perceptive of you.” The thing chuckles, clearly sarcastic. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you Al.” </p><p>“Do not--” </p><p>“And you can call me Vox.” It, or Vox, introduces itself. Then it shamelessly checks out Alastor from top to bottom, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable it made Alastor. To make matters worse it steps closer to Alastor, hands still behind its back. </p><p>“Get out.” Alastor finally snaps, wanting this offending creature out of his property and back to whatever hell it came from. It feigns an offended look completed with a hand to its heart, if it had one that is. </p><p>“Oh Al, have you the slightest idea who you’re talking to?” It says while carrying a condescending tone to it. </p><p>“I don’t even know what I’m talking to, so I can’t say I do.” Alastor pushes past the demon, or that’s what he guessed it was, and quickly takes the knife off the floor. He then turns to look at it, knife in hand, while it looks very amused by the subtle threat. </p><p>“So what exactly do you think you’re going to do with that?” It leans against the kitchen counter Alastor was previously at, while now taking in more of its surroundings. </p><p>“Well, either I can threaten you with it or you can just leave and I’ll do nothing with it.” Alastor still looks tense but he doesn’t look ready to back down. It sighs, shaking its head dramatically. </p><p>“I’ve known you for centuries and you’re still as refreshing and stupid.” It gets up from leaning and straightens its already immaculate choice of wear. Alastor gives it a puzzled look, did it make a mistake in its statement? </p><p>“That’s not—“</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, news flash, there’s a lot of things you don’t think are possible, but are.” It crudely interrupts while its expression morphs into something more sinister. Alastor did not like where this was going, he hadn’t been successful in removing this thing at all. Now it was talking like it had lost its mind as well. “But you know what has changed? Now, you’re powerless and frankly there’s no one here to save you either.” It puts a strong emphasis on the word ‘powerless’ and with that, the atmosphere has completely dropped. </p><p>“Allow me to give you an idea on what kind of position you’re in. Because, at the moment, I have no patience for your whole personality.” It raised its hand and suddenly, Alastor felt a searing pain in his abdomen. It took a few moments for it to register that, what he was looking at, some kind of cable? Wire? Alastor had no time to think as the horror of the situation, he’d been impaled, settles in. Whatever the thing that had struck him, disappears, leaving Al stumbling and clutching the wound. The thing continues watching, amusement once again present. </p><p>“Do you ever stop to think what the people you torture and kill feel?” It starts offhandedly, still watching Alastor struggle. He leans against the wall, still applying pressure to the possibly fatal injury, thinking desperately about all the first aid he knew. “Eh, you’re right. Who cares?” It talks to itself, not showing any sign of helping Alastor’s predicament. </p><p>Alastor starts feeling a bit lightheaded, surely he hadn’t lost that much blood yet? Did any of his organs get damaged in the attack? His mind was running a million miles an hour. Could he run? Walk? His dignity? His mother—the stove! It gave Alastor’s clearly distraught state another once over, before walking into his personal space again. </p><p>“Ouch, that looks like it hurts.” Alastor gives the thing the best glare he could muster, while feeling like his whole abdomen was set afire. Not reacting to the pain already was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he couldn’t give his assailant the satisfaction. “It’s really amazing you know? I can impale you and you still look ready to throw hands.” It speaks while resting a hand or claw on Alastor’s shoulder and another hovering dangerously close to the wound. Alastor feels it adjust his hands, so they were not on the wound. </p><p>“What are—“ Alastor manages, if albeit shakily, before feeling the second claw plunge into the open injury, while the first holds him in place. Alastor can’t hold back the scream as he feels the impact, the pain being too much, as his hands scramble to pry the claw away. It indicates no sign of stopping, firmly keeping Alastor from moving away, while still pushing the other hand deeper, increasing the size of the initial injury while also increasing the pain. The thought of it all made Alastor want to throw up, maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t so panicked at the moment. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get it to stop, silent tears pricked his eyes as he felt the thing hit something every so often. Finally after what felt like a lifetime, it retracts its hand, while Alastor pants heavily groaning in pain. </p><p>“So! Do you understand?” It says way too cheerily, before eyeing the hand caked in blood. A terrifying gap seems to open where it’s mouth is, without the screen breaking or disappearing. The finger it seems to lick, nearly fazes through the screen, before coming back again. It then puts the unoccupied hand on Alastor’s other shoulder, propping him up better. </p><p>“I forgot how good that tasted.” It remarks, still sounding gleeful. Alastor makes no reaction nor response, his body going into shock at the loss of blood. “Oh man, also forgot how weak you guys are.” </p><p>Vox lays the other on the floor, having had his fun already. Now he’d have to fix what he broke, before it became permanent. With a quick fix, using his magic, that was learnt from the Alastor he knew, Vox heals the external damage. Most of the internal damage would have to be healed normally, fingers crossed there wasn’t any fatal internal bleeding. Not that it really mattered to Vox, he intended to kill the other regardless. </p><p>“That’s right! I’ll also be staying here for awhile, I do hope I’m not intruding!” Vox watches the work he’d inflicted on Alastor with pride. There was no response from the other, probably unconscious by this point. “How nice of you to let me stay.” Vox finishes darkly after hearing no objections, already imagining how much fun this was all going to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This took a big twist on my part at least. I gotta say, I can’t really see Vox realistically being nicer, though I do kinda write him nicer usually.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alastor felt terrible when he woke up, a phantom pain residing somewhere in his abdomen. He couldn’t quite recall the night prior, as it felt like he’d been sleeping for an eternity. He wondered what could’ve made him feel so tired in the first place? It’s almost like he wanted to remember, but didn’t at the same time. </p><p>Looking up, he realized it was somewhere between midday and the evening. In a moment of panic and embarrassment he realized he was supposed to be at the broadcasting station today. He’d missed work, how could that be? Taking a moment, Alastor thought very hard about the previous night. A few minutes of coming home from work, the radio and then...of course. The thing, the weird demonic entity that invaded his house last night, and the pain was a result of its doing. </p><p>Alastor got up as delicately as possible. He had to make sure the thing had vacated his cabin. A small part of him wilted at the thought of it still being here, could he really get it to leave? Alastor opened his bedroom door looking to the connected living room and kitchen. He could see no sign of its weirdly shaped form. That didn’t necessarily mean it was gone, but Alastor still felt a momentary relief. At least with this out of the way he could solve the other dilemma of his, calling work and seeing what the damages were. Alastor had never missed a work day in his life, so he hoped that would help in this case. </p><p>Alastor headed over to the telephone, intending to apologize for his unexplained absence. Picking up the telephone, he waited for the switchboard operator to pick up his case. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long and he swiftly, but clearly gave her the address number. So after a few minutes of silence, he got a response. </p><p>“Louisiana Broadcasting Station, how may I assist you?” </p><p>“Hello my dear Catherine, this is Alastor, may I speak to Martin?” </p><p>“Oh! Alastor! Of course.”  </p><p>“Splendid.” </p><p>More silence as Catherine presumably goes to fetch Martin. </p><p>“Alastor! Good to hear from you, It’s been so long I was starting to get worried.” </p><p>“So long?” </p><p>“It’s already Tuesday...are you doing alright?” </p><p>“I--yes, quite fine. I called concerning my absence..s from the Station?”</p><p>“Fret not, I’m positive you had a legitimate reason, which does beg the question, what was it?” </p><p>“...A hunting accident.” </p><p>“Sounds terrible! I wish you the best of luck, when will you be in next?” </p><p>“One more day of recovery should suffice.” </p><p>“Great! Get well soon!” </p><p>Alastor hung up, feeling utterly disoriented. He’d lost four days?! It made sense, seeing the severity of his wound, but in practice it was much more difficult to grasp. But there wasn’t really anything he could do about it, besides his job position wasn’t in any trouble, so why needlessly worry over it?</p><p> </p><p>With that settled, unnervingly well, Alastor looked around his surroundings again. He couldn’t help but feel paranoid. Personally, he felt justified if one considered recent events. He circled around his property once more, finding nothing, still not feeling any better either. Maybe he could finish that letter he had been intending to write. Just thinking about her made his stomach grumble. </p><p>Alastor finished with writing the letter and just as quickly delivered it to the intended recipient. Now he’d have to wait for a response and by no means was he an impatient man. So wait he could. What he didn’t foresee coming was the terrible situation he was about to be thrust into. </p><p>--</p><p>The next day, he awoke to feeling insatiable hungry. It reminded him he’d never turned off the stove all those nights ago. Was it still on? Alastor rushed to the kitchen, seeing that it was turned off, which hardly brought any sense of comfort to him. If he didn’t turn it off, the thing must’ve and that already implied a few things. The food he had been making was gone as well, leaving only the pot, increasing the bad feeling in his gut. Would that thing really steal his food? What about the food in his fridge that his mother had made for him when she visited a week ago? Alastor opened the small contraption, seeing the food untouched. He closed the door, looking at the empty pot in his hands, it made no sense. </p><p>“It was quite delicious, I commend you Al.” </p><p>Alastor startled, dropping the pot, in turn making them both wince at the loud clang it produced. It recovered first, smiling at Alastor with its unnaturally colored grin. Alastor instead turned away from it, picking up the pot and set it on the counter for him to clean later. </p><p>“Come ooon, don’t ignore me!” It whined, annoying Alastor to no end. </p><p>“What are you still doing here?” Alastor braces himself mentally, this thing was dangerous in every meaning of the word. </p><p>“That’s right! You didn’t hear me.” It stands up from where it was sitting on the chair. “I’m going to be staying here awhile!” Alastor bit back his urge to tell the thing off for thinking it could just stay here. </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>“Why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom!” It responded, before starting to laugh very loudly. It continued to do so for some time, making Alastor feel like he was missing some inside joke. “Okay, not really, I’m here for some payback, after you took something from me.” It says way too casually. </p><p>“You’re here for...revenge on...something I didn’t take?” Alastor asks, thinking to himself, his anxiety growing. </p><p>“Aww, don’t be too scared, I don’t break things I love, at least...not too much.” It stood right in front of Alastor, cupping one claw on Alastor’s cheek, the other lifting his chin so they could maintain eye contact. “Then again, love hurts sometimes.” Alastor slaps the claws away, putting some distance between them. It starts talking again, before Alastor could. </p><p>“Now I warned you last time and I will do so again.” It crosses its arms, clearly displeased. “I am not a patient man, at least not anymore. Listening to me will fare much better for you.” Alastor stays silent, keeping his expression schooled. </p><p>“First of all, I’ve decided that you belong to me.” It declares boldly and Alastor can’t help but scoff. </p><p>“You’ve decided have you?” Alastor questions disbelievingly. </p><p>“Why yes I have Al.” It grins widely, its mood seemingly bettered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it though. Just follow some guidelines and everything will be fine!” Alastor throws it an incredulous look. </p><p>“I don’t want you mingling with girls, well…” it trails off knowingly. “Unless it’s for your murderous appetite, I don’t really care if you flirt with them to get them to lower their guard enough to be killed.” Alastor faces It with a look of alarm. This time it scoffs, looking offended. </p><p>“What? You honestly thought I didn’t know you were a serial killer that cannibalizes his victims? Who do you take me for?” It rolls its eyes, as if everyone knew. “So as I was saying, flirting is fine, but I will not tolerate any form of physical intimacy with them.” Alastor cringed as it stepped into his personal space for what felt like the millionth time. He still would never agree to anything idiotic like this, he was going to do what he wanted to. </p><p>“I demand that you reserve that right for me.” It seems to make its point by trailing its claw along Alastor’s cheek once more. Alastor instinctively reaches to remove the offending limb, but his hand is caught before it could do so. “Do get used to this kind of intimacy from me, I’m not going to be stopping anytime soon.” It turns Alastor around, pulls him into an embrace and leans its weirdly shaped head onto Alastor’s own. Which was very uncomfortable, with its sharp edges, but it didn’t seem to care. It tightens its grip around him every time Alastor tries to slip away, the contact was making him antsy. </p><p>“I just want your love and affection Al.” There’s a weary undertone that slips into It’s voice. </p><p>“Neither are things I care about.” Alastor responds back harshly. It sighs, sounding troubled. </p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“Would you care to unhand me?” Alastor attempts to glare at It, who was still leaning on him, completely ignoring It’s previous statement. </p><p>“I’m going to be nice and agree. Try not to make me regret it.” It pulls back, giving Alastor room to breathe. Alastor feels the crawling of his skin subside slightly, only leaving behind an uncomfortable mentality. </p><p>This would start the sporadic and multiple visits he got from the thing. A true nightmare for Alastor in every aspect. When it was at his cabin, it demanded constant attention and insisted on all forms of physical intimacy. All which made Alastor extremely distressed and he was positive that It knew that as well. It didn’t care though, nor did it care if Alastor rejected its attempts of touching him. It would just force him in those cases. Although Alastor could tell it was wearing on its patience, having to constantly force him to do what it wanted. So Alastor kept at it, seeing how it would react, he wasn’t breaking the one rule it had set down after all. </p><p>On the sidelines he was going to outings with his newest soon to be meal. She was a lady in her early twenties who had some spitfire in her, a trait he enjoyed. It was fun to see that spirit break and disappear in their final moments. Her name was Aubrey and she fell quite easily for his charm, going anywhere he invited her. </p><p>The thing stayed true to its word about not caring for his endeavors as long as they had no physical aspect to them. Anytime Alastor invited Aubrey over, it would be gone and so he started bringing her over more just to get rid of the thing. She wasn’t always available for this however, her having other arrangements with other men. And it was on such a day It approached Alastor wanting something. It was just before Alastor had to head for his work. </p><p>“Al I’m going to need some of your blood.” It stated crudely. Alastor narrowed his eyes, desperately wondering if this was some kind of joke. </p><p>“Absolutely not, can’t you murder someone else for that?” Alastor finally responds after a long silence. </p><p>“I was doing that, but I just couldn’t get past the taste of yours.” It seems to think back to that moment, making Alastor narrow his eyes further. “You really only have yourself to blame, you got me into the whole blood drinking thing.” Another thoughtful expression by It. </p><p>“That—“ Alastor cuts himself off, not even coming up with anything to say. It constantly talked to him as if they’d known each other for a very long time. That should’ve been impossible, but It knew things It shouldn’t have about him. It all made no sense to him. </p><p>“Come on then.” It sits Alastor down onto a chair not waiting for Alastor’s consent. </p><p>“You—“ </p><p>“Shush, I’m working.” It uses its weird wire manipulation abilities to restrain him, as it looks for something on his arm. And without warning it creates a deep gash in Alastor’s arm, an action that makes him hiss in pain. Knowing that he couldn’t do more than wait for It to finish, he thinks over the script he’d written for himself today, pointedly ignoring the stinging pain. Only did he start getting worried when his arm started feeling cold, his breathing got shallower and he felt a lightheadedness. </p><p>“Y-you’re taking too much..!” Alastor hastily cut in, urging It to stop. </p><p>“Ah, you’re right.” It agrees, not sounding the least bit worried. “Let me close that up.” It uses some of its unnatural abilities to heal up the rather deep gash. </p><p>“...What’s the purpose of this...?” Alastor was positive that taste was not the only factor here. </p><p>“Well, mixed with the right things, blood can increase my strength. A lot of other things too, you knew a lot about it.” It responded without any problems. But there it was again, Alastor thought, the implication that he’d done or known something he didn’t. </p><p>“You’re free to go now.” It releases the restraints holding Alastor down. And Alastor pulls back his arm, feeling unnerved by the lack of a visible wound. Even more so by the thought of It consuming some of his lifeblood. </p><p>“Stop judging me, you do it too! Just to other people.” It points out while Alastor shakes his head. He didn’t really...drink other people’s blood, he’s not a vampire. He just repurposed human meat, it would be a terrible waste otherwise. Meaning it didn’t count and the thing was wrong about him. </p><p>“As much as I love these...interactions, I’ve work to attend to.” Alastor reminds It, wanting to leave in time. Martin wouldn’t take too kindly to it, or he’d start asking annoying questions both being things Alastor wanted to avoid. </p><p>“Have fun, I’ll be listening.” It gives Alastor a fond look, cuing Alastor to take his leave. At least it confirmed his suspicion of the thing tuning in on his broadcasts, it was inconvenient as it limited his options a fair amount. There was also a nervousness that came with the thought, a feeling quickly ignored by Alastor. He should only be focusing on the things that actually mattered. </p><p>Alastor’s trek to the Station went without incident, Alastor did feel colder than usual though. A sense of tiredness seeping into his whole being. It must’ve also shown on him, despite his efforts as Catherine was quick to gush over how ‘deathly pale he was’. He of course assured her he was fine, saying it had to be the cold weather. She scolded him for wearing so little and gave him her scarf, which he promised to return the next day. She told him that ‘he better, or he’d regret it’, a refreshing encounter if you asked Alastor. </p><p>His broadcast went just as well, there being no issues whatsoever, not that Alastor normally had any issues. He was good at what he did, he knew that. But when he was reaching for his script book, the dividing glass took on an ominous shade of red. Alastor looked over at it, momentarily seeing the length of the glass being surrounded in flames, framing a tall grinning entity dressed in red. Of course, it disappeared nearly as quickly as it came, leaving Alastor skeptical and confused. He continued to stare at the spot where the entity had occupied, pondering the meaning furiously, if it even had any. </p><p>“Hey!” Martin calls from the doorway, but pauses when Alastor doesn’t respond. “Uh...Alastor?” This catches Alastor’s attention. </p><p>“Ah, Martin.” Alastor hastily looks away from the glass. “What do you require of me, my good fellow?” </p><p>“Catherine tells me Aubrey is waiting at the entrance for you.” Martin informs Alastor with a sly smile. </p><p>“How lovely, I mustn't keep the lady waiting then.” Alastor is quick to respond, getting up and heading towards the main entrance. </p><p>“Aren’t you lucky.” </p><p>“Hardly, I’m not the only one.” Alastor walks past Martin. </p><p>“Ah.” Martin halts Alastor by grabbing his arm. “How’s dinner two days from now sound?” </p><p>“Already?" Alastor smiles. </p><p>“I know you can do it, you’re good at what you do.” </p><p>“Oh I know.” Alastor pulls back his arm. “Two days from now then.” Alastor continues his walk towards the entrance to greet Aubrey. What an interesting turn of events, he always did enjoy a little challenge.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Everything is chaotic, like really chaotic. </p><p>asjfeh, I know what I'm doing I swear!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aaaaaaaaaaaaal !” </p><p>Alastor groaned audibly, and banged his head on the desk he was working at. He JUST got back home and already the thing was pestering him. Not to mention he had work to do, his next script wasn’t finished, so he was trying to get that done. </p><p>“I.Am.Working.” Alastor shouted back, keeping up a smile with great strain. He was still tired from the day and his self restraint was dwindling quickly. If only he could shatter that stupid glass like face. Oh the satisfaction that would bring. </p><p>“But I’m bored.” The thing walks into the living room from where it had been previously at. Then it ungracefully flops onto one of Alastor’s armchairs. Alastor glares at it through his smile. It completely ignores him, instead summoning a glass from nowhere. The glass contained a red liquid that Alastor almost grimaced at. This time the thing takes notice of Alastor’s reaction and all while holding eye contact downs the glass in one go. Alastor can’t help the involuntary shiver and it chuckles at him. </p><p>“You seem disturbed.” It mocks as Alastor turns his attention back to the script, trying to unsee what he’d just witnessed. </p><p>“I’m trying to work.” Alastor responds simply. He hears it get up from the armchair and he internally rolls his eyes. </p><p>“Come on, little doe.” It coos from somewhere behind Alastor. </p><p>“Doe?” Alastor questions, facing the thing again. </p><p>“You’ll understand later, now join me on the chair, would you?” It puts a claw on Alastor’s shoulder. </p><p>“How many times do I have to remind you, that I’m--” </p><p>“--’You’re busy’.” It uses air quotes. “You can work from the chair too.” It, without warning, lifts Alastor bridal style from the desk chair, smile widening at the surprised ‘squeak’ from Alastor. Alastor just barely manages to not drop his notebook and pen.</p><p> When it reaches the armchair, it sits down again setting Alastor on his lap. Then immediately loops its claws around Alastor’s waist, adding a sense of entrapment to Alastor. The feeling grows when he moves to leave and the thing’s claws tighten their grip on him, cutting into him as a warning. </p><p>“Stop trying to leave.” There’s an edge of a warning in its voice. Alastor stops, feeling too tired to bother the thing, instead trying to focus on his work. Sometimes he feels it look over his shoulder, probably reading what he was writing. His writing is painfully slow, making little to no progress. </p><p> Alastor finds no issues with his situation until he starts feeling its claws...roaming. He sits up very quickly, the grip having disappeared earlier. It looks surprised and then annoyed.</p><p>“I’m going to sleep.” Alastor declares, hoping that it would relent at that, not being able to work on the script anymore. Luckily it did, still looking incredibly annoyed. Although it looked like he was on thin ice with this thing.  </p><p>“Is that harlot coming over again?” It asks just before Alastor can enter the safety of his bedroom. </p><p>“Yes, Aubrey is coming over tomorrow.” Alastor informs it. It hums with Alastor being unable to decipher whether it was a good or bad reaction to the information. </p><p>“Alright then, Goodnight little doe.” Alastor doesn’t respond back and simply slinks into his own room. </p><p>When Alastor wakes up the next morning, he immediately changes his clothing to be able to leave his cabin as quickly as possible. Whatever time he could limit with the thing was a positive. Aubrey had invited him to a speakeasy on the other side of town. It wasn’t really his scene, but he needed a reason to convince her to come back with him to his home. If she was more than a little tipsy, then it wouldn’t be a problem. It also made her more vulnerable as she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. It was just too convenient for him to pass up! </p><p>Alastor sighs, leaning against a building arms crossed. He had been waiting for a good thirty minutes for Aubrey to come. What a waste of his time, Alastor thinks bitterly. He still kept up his smile, if only for appearances. He busied himself with thinking of all the ways he could end her life. Would she beg? Cry? They always did, either calling him a monster or trying to convince him not to do it. Not like either reaction made a difference, he needed to eat after all! Besides, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring him a great amount of pleasure. </p><p>“Please, allow me to apologize!” Aubrey finally shows up, out of breath and her appearance slightly disheveled. So she’d decided to make arrangements with other men prior to this one? She really was the perfect victim, so unbecoming. </p><p>“Nonsense my dear, you arrived at the perfect time.” He says smoothly, smiling deceptively. “Why you left me the perfect amount of time to prepare.” Alastor offers his hand for her to take. </p><p>“You’re too forgiving.” She smiles bashfully taking his hand and following him in. </p><p>“How could I fault a lovely young woman like yourself?” He looks ahead, seeing the door to the speakeasy. She giggles keeping up with him. At the door they’re stopped, the man behind the door asking for a code. Aubrey is quick to respond, with the door being opened to give them passage. The man clearly recognized her and gave Alastor a once over. She’d probably taken others here too then. </p><p>“Isn’t this place lovely?” She inquires when they’re fully inside. Alastor looks the place top to bottom, it was very much like he expected. A small structure made mostly of wood, with one bar and several chairs. With loud noises of chattering, glasses being handled and the occasional questionable thump. But he turns to her, faking a delighted smile. </p><p>“Your taste is truly impeccable.” He leads her to sit on one of the many tables. </p><p>“Just a nice place I happened to find.” She says flippantly. Alastor’s smile grows, what a liar. </p><p>“How lucky for you. Care for a drink darling?” He offers, preparing to call over the bartender. </p><p>“You read my mind!” She claps her hands excitedly. The bartender comes over waiting, looking disinterested in the whole thing. Alastor wonders why he would’ve chosen this particular job, it was quite risky nowadays after all. </p><p>“Gin for the lovely lady, if you may.” Alastor orders, not intending to get anything for himself. He wanted to have full control over his bodies when he intended to kill people. Thank you very much. </p><p>“Oh Alastor! You remembered my favorite drink!” She gasps, practically swooning, before accepting her drink. “You’re not having a drink?” </p><p>“I’m afraid I have work tomorrow.” Alastor explains, seeing her drink her own glass. “Order as much as you like, I’ll be paying, don’t worry.” She does exactly this, ordering whenever she felt like it. Eventually getting more and more intoxicated while Alastor had the pleasure of watching, waiting. </p><p>--</p><p>Vox paced around the rather small cabin. He was beyond bored again, the 1920’s had nothing to entertain himself with. Sure he had his phone with him and constantly messaged Velvet, begging her for memes. Which she provided, if he sent pictures of the ‘time before boomers’. She could only entertain him for so long though. </p><p>Today was even worse, because Al, his little doe, was out with some whore doing Satan knows what. At least today would be the last day, with Al saying he was going to end her miserable life. And he’d get to see it perfectly, Al was such a good killer after all. What would it look with him being human instead of demon and with none of those voodoo powers? Vox couldn’t wait to find out. That still didn’t change his earlier frustration with Al going off on his own, not to mention the frustration Al was causing him. Wouldn’t it just be easy not to taunt the very powerful demon in your living room? Well, apparently not for his doe. Maybe a little disciplining would work, it could work wonders sometimes. But before Vox could pursue the idea further, a letter is slipped into Al’s cabin. </p><p>Vox walks over to it, picking it up and inspecting the sender. The name was all too familiar, so Al’s mother wanted a visit? Guess Al really was a mama’s boy, having his mother visit when he’s already an adult. But this meant preparations would have to be made for the visit as well. Raucous laughter and his doe’s familiar voice can be heard now, once again interrupting his thought process. He’d have to disappear out of sight for now. </p><p>“Alastor, you’re the only man for me!” Aubrey declares boldly, while practically hanging off his arm.</p><p>“And you, the only woman for me.” He looks down at her very obviously drunk form. </p><p>“You know just what to say dontcha?” She giggles again as Alastor makes to open the door for the two of them. He leads her in, guiding her drunken form and closing the door behind them. As he hangs up his coat and hers, she stumbles into the kitchen. He follows shortly after, wondering why she’d choose to go here of all places. Well, it made it easier for him to slip a knife onto the counter, for when he’d get her distracted enough. </p><p>“Do you wanna fool around?” Her tone is flirty and filled with lust. Alastor internally cringed, not letting it show on his exterior though. </p><p>“I’m afraid we’ll have to do that another time.” Or never, Alastor muses. Watching some of that earlier excitement fade in her eyes. How anyone found the time to bother with matters such as these, Alastor would never know. She still put her arms atop his shoulders, smiling vacuously. Alastor played along, pulling her close by the waist. If his radio was acting up again, Alastor didn’t notice, as he solely focused on Aubrey. And in a bold moment he pulled her into a kiss. It was a very short lived kiss, as almost all of his electric powered appliances suddenly blew up. Aubrey startled badly, screaming and pulling away. </p><p>“What the fuck is--” She didn’t finish as she stopped, completely blanching. She froze in place and then screamed at the top of her lungs. She makes to run out of the room and presumably the house, before she’s stopped by the cables the thing could produce. </p><p>“So.” Alastor recognized its voice, except now it was layered heavily with static and carried a dark undertone. “My darling doe, you’ve chosen to ignore my warnings.” Alastor takes a hesitant step back, the thing was surrounded by an unexplainable malicious aura. He’d broken the one rule the thing had wanted to enforce. </p><p>“Just wait here quietly, got it sweetheart?” It turns to Aubrey, who’s started crying. She nods furiously, her makeup running. </p><p>“Last time I just felt around your organs a bit, that wasn’t very fun, was it? well, for you at least.” It addresses Alastor again, with an impossibly wide and cruel grin. A phantom pain flares in Alastor’s gut. Then with a movement from its hand, it restrains Alastor as well. One cable per limb, with one wrapping around his forehead. “But I have a better idea this time! Something more my style. Let me offer my condolences though, this will probably be the worst pain you’ll ever experience.” It says matter of factly, not sounding sorry at all. “You see, I’m going to shock some sense into you!” It doubles over laughing at the wordplay, some of the cables sparking. Then it makes another brief hand movement. </p><p>The thing hadn’t lied, it was far worse than anyone could’ve imagined. Far worse than his initial encounter with the thing, at least then the pain hadn’t been everywhere, didn’t burn and wasn’t scrambling his brain. Everything lost meaning very quickly, with only confusion and pain registering, without him understand why or how. </p><p>Vox felt practically giddy watching his work, electrocution really was more his style. He had to be careful still, but he knew what he was doing. Too long he’d send Al into cardiac arrest, wrong placement and he’d give him a permanently damaging seizure or permanent long term memory loss. Too intense and Al would be losing phalanges or worse. Although memory loss was always going to be a thing. Afterwards he’d have to release the tension from Al’s muscles and make sure tissue hadn’t seeped into his bloodstream. The most noticeable problem would be the electrical burns. It was quite a bit of work, but Vox had decided it would be worth it. </p><p>Finally deciding this was as much as Al could take Vox let up the current. He kept the cables even if he didn’t really need them, Al wasn’t going anywhere in awhile. A whimper behind him reminded him of the offending party. He threw the terrified woman a smile. She looked horrified and appeared to be in a state of denial. </p><p>“Enjoy the show doll?” Vox asks bemused, he’d totally forgotten of her existence. “Y’know, he took you here to kill and eat you. You should rejoice, I’ve saved you!” Of course she doesn’t and openly starts crying again. </p><p>“How about I let you go, you seem like a lovely gal.” He offers, not missing the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Vox releases the cables on her, watches her run a few steps and then pierces her body with a dozen of his cables. There’s a terrible crash as she falls down while Vox walks over to her calmly. “See you in Hell! Try not to die before then, I’d love to continue this conversation sometime.” Her struggles to stay alive die out with his words.  </p><p>Next Vox went over to Al, releasing the cables, cradling the other when he collapsed into his arms. He was careful not to rub against the burns as to not tear more skin. Al was conscious, but not very aware of his surroundings or really anything. It was the confusion that came with these things. Al was somewhere between begging for it to stop or for his mother, crying, asking nonsensical questions and trying to scratch at the burns. </p><p>“It’s okay now little doe, it’s over.” Vox holds Al very close, keeping a tight grip on Al’s wrists to keep him from scratching. “Just focus on my voice, it’s over, you’re going to be alright.” He says softly, moving to lift Al, so he could take him to rest. He wasn’t going to get over this quickly. </p><p>Vox began his work patching up Al. Checking to see how bad ACS was in Al, and messing with fascia where he could. Most tissue damage was reversible, surprisingly. Al had slight arrhythmia, but it wasn’t too severe, so Vox left it. The mental damage was going to be a surprise, like a Kinder egg, but a bit more sinister. With his power he was able to mostly sort out the scarring on Al’s head, but the legs and arms were far too gone. So Vox bandaged those up and elevated the arms with pillows. This was already going to be painful enough. </p><p>With most of the immediate treatment out of the way, Vox sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out his phone. He was going to text Velvet all the details while he waited for his little doe to properly gain consciousness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alastor: shares a kiss with a woman.</p><p>Vox: so you have chosen death</p><p>Oh boy, this keeps getting worse, but I already knew that. Don’t worry, this isn’t just going to be a Alastor gets bullied fic, physically at least. Vox is bit different in this whole fic, basing on the fact that he’s a couple of centuries past Hazbin Hotel starting up and he’d starting picking up mannerisms from Demon Alastor. </p><p>Those who have not experienced any kind of major form of shock, I envy you, because it is seriously the absolute worst thing. There was no way Alastor was staying civil through that. </p><p>That being said, I apologize for the people expecting good content from me and for all the grammar mistakes because I don’t proofread for some stupid reason. Cries in Finnish.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vox should’ve been more careful with Al. Truthfully he’d forgotten how fragile human beings were, so that was on him. </p><p>A few days after the initial shock, ha, Al woke up. He’d woken up in a cold sweat practically screaming. Vox had reached over to calm Al, with little success at first. </p><p>“Shush now little doe.” Vox pulls Al close like he had a few nights ago. Doing his best to comfort the man who had fallen into crying and hysterics. Then he once again had to grab Al’s wrists to keep him from tearing at the gauzes he’d put on the burn wounds. </p><p>“Let me go!” Alastor moves away from Vox, as far as he could with the TV demon still holding his wrists. </p><p>It was all downhill from there, the extreme stress that Al was feeling towards the situation, sent him into cardiac arrest, giving Vox a heart attack of his own. It was a miracle that Al didn’t die on the spot and Vox was able to perform some semblance of defibrillation. After which Vox requested some diazepam from Velvet, he was not going to repeat this whole episode again. She was quick to deliver, not without a lot of questions though. </p><p>“Do I want to know?” She holds his package just out of reach. </p><p>“Nothing bad, unless it has the effects I like. For now it’s just to keep the little doe from going into cardiac arrest every time he wakes up.” Vox reaches for the package, only to have Velvet move it out of his reach again. </p><p>“I wonder who sent him into that state. also I left some extra stuff in there, for when you need them.” She tosses the package to him, giving him a judgemental look. </p><p>“It was his fault.” Vox says defensively, feeling slightly curious as to the contents of the bag. </p><p>“Whatever you say.” Velvet rolls her eyes. </p><p>“I’d love to get judged by you more, but I’ve got to get back.” Vox cuts their conversation short. </p><p>“Try not to be too mean.” She hops off. </p><p>Al appeared to have already woken up when Vox came back. Which Vox cursed his bad luck, he’d have to be careful. Already Al looked on edge when he saw him, although he was seemingly composed this time. </p><p>“Are you calm Al?” Vox asks, sitting on the edge of Al’s bed. He doesn’t get a response and is taken aback by the frown on Al’s face. “Hey...didn’t your mom tell you to keep up a smile Al?” The look Vox gets from Al is dangerous. </p><p>“I know you love your mom and everything, so I’m not going to push it.” Vox holds out his hands in surrender. “But right now I’m going to need your arm.” </p><p>It goes as well as Vox had expected it to, with Alastor trying to quickly move away, stopping when the pain acted up. </p><p>“Don’t be like that doe.” Vox sighs. “Don’t make me resort to alternate solutions.” He beckons for Al to come over to him. Which to Vox’s absolute delight works, with Al scooting a bit closer. </p><p>“That wasn’t so bad was it little doe?” Vox smiles widely, going over the bag, pulling out the substance and a hypodermic syringe. Al appears to have second thoughts but doesn’t make a move other than watch anxiously. Taking the right amount of solution and removing the air from the syringe, Vox turns to Al. “That arm if you would.” And when Al makes no move Vox takes his arm. </p><p>“What’s it for..?” Al asks with a shaky tone. </p><p>“Don’t worry, it’s just to help you relax a bit.” Vox says, with Al moving to pull his arm back. </p><p>“It’s not bad I promise.” Vox tightens his grip, positioning the shot, he had to be careful. “Stop squirming before I restrain you.” With that, Vox takes his chance and positions the syringe accordingly. </p><p>After which Vox decides to lie on the bed, TV leaning on the headboard and pulling Al to lie on top of him. There’s no resistance as the relaxant lulls Al into unconsciousness. Vox runs a claw through Al’s hair, the other taking a chance to explore the length of Al’s body. </p><p>Vox would later discover that Velvet had left morphine and a balm for severe burns in that package. Al really should be grateful to her, he wasn’t going to give Al any in the first place. And when Al did wake up again, Vox utilized the balm and gave Al some pain medications, while Velvet’s words echoed in his head. It seemed to help Al, as he got up from bed for the first time, exploring the cabin. </p><p>Alastor felt dejected to say the least. His arms and legs were constantly ravaged by a painful itch. It was a constant annoyance and reminder, a reminder of what he couldn’t recall. He knew that something had caused all the injuries he seemed to be sporting, something having to do with the thing, but he couldn’t remember what had transpired. If that had been the only thing to escape his memory, he could’ve brushed it off, but he knew there were other things that he had forgotten. Alastor tried desperately to remember but it was hard because he didn’t know what he was supposed to be remembering. </p><p>“Careful, think any harder and your head will explode.” It muses from the kitchen. </p><p>“I can’t remember.” Alastor ignores the jab from It. Fully invested in his thoughts. </p><p>“That can be a side effect from that whole business.” It seems unconcerned, frustrating Alastor to no end.  </p><p>“What business?” </p><p>“Oh...You’ll probably remember it again at some point.” It responds a little more apprehensively. Alastor glares at It, already feeling exhausted despite just getting up. “I’ve also got some important information, now that you're up and moving again.” </p><p>“What?” Alastor asks impatiently, sitting down and taking a breath, all this pacing was doing him no good. </p><p>“Dear old mama’s coming to visit, said she’d be here around next week.” It taps one of Its claws against the kitchen counter. Alastor gets up quickly at the mention of his mother, there was no way he was going to risk her coming here now. Alastor be damned if he let the thing anywhere near his mother. </p><p>“She can’t come here now.” Alastor rushes to his desk, ignoring the shortness of breath he seemed to have. Prepping his writing tools, with more difficulty than usual. </p><p>“Careful there, don’t put too much strain on your heart.” It scolds, while Alastor writes. Well more like he tries to write, but his handwriting was terrible, with his arm being so unsteady. Alastor had to get this letter through though, so he ignored the terrible looking handwriting and kept writing. Finally finishing and putting the letter inside an envelope. </p><p>“I can send that for you.” It says when It sees Alastor finish packaging the letter. Alastor gives a skeptical look towards It, who shrugs in turn. “It would only benefit me if your mother doesn’t come to visit.” It points out. </p><p>“You will not harm her.” Alastor says firmly as he hands the thing his letter. </p><p>“Purely up to you little doe.” It makes the letter disappear, astounding Alastor to a point, but he doesn’t outwardly show it. “Don’t try anything and she’ll be fine. And remember, je parle français.” Alastor hides his discontent, instead walking back to his room. He wanted to go back to sleep, the tiredness from before wasn’t leaving him and he’d do anything to not have to talk to the thing. </p><p>“Where are you going?” It asks watching Alastor leave.</p><p>“Sleep.” </p><p>“Already? Aren’t you hungry, It’s been like a week.” It questions. </p><p>“I’m not.” Alastor slips into his room, closing the door behind him, heaving a deep sigh. The itching was starting to get worse again. </p><p>Alastor spent the next few days mostly sleeping, not feeling much up to anything else. He didn’t want to go to work, sing, cook or even kill anyone, nothing seemed to appeal to him anymore. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel hungry, the thought of food made him queasy, so he didn't bother eating any. The thing seemed to be concerned now, not that Alastor cared to find out, It had been the cause of all of this after all. </p><p>“Are you going to do anything today doe?” Alastor can feel It sit down on his bed. Alastor didn’t feel the need to respond to it. He had no plans to go anywhere but there was no need to tell that to It. “Are you at least going to eat today, It’s almost two weeks now.” </p><p>“Tomorrow.” Alastor says vaguely, just wanting It to leave him alone. </p><p>“What about your job?” It asks knowingly, not giving Alastor the space he so wanted. </p><p>“Has Martin called?” Dread fills Alastor, he’d forgotten completely about the dinner arrangement. He would have to call and see what the situation was now, he’d missed two weeks of work and now this arrangement. </p><p>“Insistently.” </p><p>Alastor gets up at that, he needed to sort this out. He goes over in his head possible explanations for everything. He couldn’t reschedule, not without the food he had promised. </p><p>“Did you kill the girl?” Alastor asks the thing who looks curious at Alastor’s seemingly sudden burst of energy. </p><p>“Yes.” It nods. </p><p>“The body?” Alastor pushes the matter. </p><p>“You don’t want to know. Why?” It studies Alastor, who seems annoyed by the response. </p><p>“Nevermind.” Alastor brushes off the thing, heading for the telephone. To Alastor’s surprise It doesn’t follow him into the living room. In fact It doesn’t move at all, but Alastor wasn’t going to complain. </p><p>Picking up the telephone, Alastor informs the switchboard operator of Martin’s phone address, looking to the mirror in front of him. There wasn’t a lot to see, besides the terrible state he’d fallen into. How pathetic, Alastor thinks bitterly, how could he let things get this far. As he thinks that, the mirror morphs, much like how it had back at the station. A deeper red engulfing the length of it, no longer reflecting himself. Instead reflecting the grinning red dressed demon(?) This time it doesn’t disappear immediately, and appears to be much closer than last time. Alastor stares in bewilderment, thinking whether he should call for the thing, this new demon(?) was probably linked to It somehow. But he doesn’t get very far with that thought as the grinning demon shakes its head at him, bringing a finger to its lips, its grin widening. Alastor stops, inspecting the mirror closer now. This demon had a very wide and disproportionate grin as its most noticeable feature, but it also had piercing red eyes, with its hair and weird hair tufts...or  were they ears? Also being mostly red. Next to them were tiny little antlers and Alastor pauses at that. A deer? The demon says something, the words echoing in Alastor’s head, ‘Radio Demon’, was it introducing itself? Alastor doesn’t think too hard on it, still being bothered by the radio demon’s appearance. What did the thing call him again? Doe! It calls him ‘doe’, Alastor realizes, going over everything he now knew about this new demon. It resembled a deer, much to how the thing called him, it referred to itself as ‘the radio demon’, and that grin...Everything the thing had said about It knowing Alastor comes to mind. There was too much resemblance, too much coincidence. </p><p>“....Are you me?” Alastor is brave enough to ask. The radio demon’s grin widens more, clapping its hand together nodding with what appeared to be amusement. Alastor nearly drops the telephone out of shock, he hadn’t expected to be right, it was an impulsive question without too much thought. What was he supposed to think? Nothing about this could make any sense. </p><p>“Al?” The thing calls from Alastor’s room, sounding skeptical. The radio demon’s grin falters and it seems to glance in the direction of the thing. Then it shushes Alastor once more before disappearing completely. Alastor doesn’t do much but stare. </p><p>“Did something happen? I thought I...felt something familiar…” The thing appears from Alastor’s room, speaking with a sadder tone. It gave Alastor something akin to a hopeful expression, hopeful for what, Alastor wasn’t quite sure of. </p><p>“ALASTOR.” Someone shouts from the telephone, startling him. The thing winces at the loud tone, but seems to be thinking about something else. </p><p>“...Yes?” Alastor responds to the telephone. </p><p>“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a good minute now.” </p><p>“Ah, my apologies Martin.” </p><p>“What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve started missing work, boycotted our arrangement, constantly spacing out. How should I feel about all this?”</p><p>“You shouldn’t feel anything, they’re my personal issues.” </p><p>“Issues? So there is something wrong.” </p><p>“I came to inform you that the reason I missed work was an aggravation of that wound I received from hunting.” </p><p>“What? Did Aubrey give you a run for your money?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Is she dead? The news says she is, but is she?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“So the injury...that Aubrey didn’t aggravate...caused you to miss work and dinner?” </p><p>“And dinner got spoiled.” </p><p>“Goddamnit. Has our agreement escaped your memory?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“You better hurry with a refund then, wonder what everyone would think of you, ‘the bayou killer unveiled’!” </p><p>“Come now Martin, petty threats? I’m disappointed,” </p><p>“Not as disappointed as I am in you.” </p><p>“Unmasking my identity would be a double edged sword for you Martin, I advise you to think carefully.”</p><p>“I'm quite aware, but I still require to be reimbursed. The people I work for are not patient, like I am.” </p><p>“I shall do what I can.” </p><p>“Your mother--”</p><p>“I know where you live Martin.” </p><p>“Inform me when you’ve got what I want. Until then you're without a paycheck.” </p><p>“Very well, farewell.” </p><p>“Until we meet again.” </p><p>Alastor ends the call, thinking to himself. He would have to figure out how to quickly get Martin what he required. On another note, it seemed that Martin wasn’t the madman Alastor had pegged him to be. After their last dinner together Alastor had thought Martin was insane, but it seemed Alastor had been the one who was wrong. </p><p>“Do you know why I do this?” Martin had asked him during their last dinner. Alastor had been finishing the remnants of Sylvia. </p><p>“Not really.” He’d said, not particularly caring either. As long as Martin kept up on his side of the agreement, everything would be fine. </p><p>“Well, do you believe in demons Alastor?” Martin had insisted, setting his utensils down and crossing his arms. </p><p>“Can’t say I do.” Alastor still responded dismissively. He’d wanted to leave, his part of the bargain was complete, and needless talking wasn’t how he’d intended to spend the night. </p><p>“They exist! There’s a Hell, a Hell ruled by Lucifer and Overlords.” Martin had stated proudly, a glint in his eyes. “I’ve spoken to Lucifer, you know.” </p><p>“Have you now?” Alastor had resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “And what might this have to do with you sponsoring my peculiar eating habits and--” Alastor had looked at Martin’s empty plate. “--yours.” </p><p>“Make no mistake, I’m no cannibal like you. I just need the essence that humans have, it will give me a headstart for when I go to Hell.” Martin still went on, sounding prideful. Like he had figured out some secret that no one else knew. But there was also a flash of uncertainty and fear in his expression. </p><p>“Delightful. May I go now?” Alastor had stood up. </p><p>“You’ll regret not believing me one day.” Martin had said, annoying Alastor in the way he seemed to be looking down at Alastor. </p><p>Alastor cleared his head, that was then, this is now. Martin could still be insane, maybe he should test his theories, all the random tidbits he’d been told about ‘Hell’. The thing would know right? Demons were supposed to be stronger than humans with weird appearances, but there were supposed to be Overlords who were far more powerful than an average demon. Could It be an Overlord? Alastor couldn’t believe he was humoring the ramblings of a clearly mentally unstable individual. He blamed it on the weariness he was still plagued by. </p><p>“Say...Vox was it?” Alastor addresses It who turns curiously to him. “Are there such things as Overlords?” </p><p>“In Hell?” The thing raises a brow. </p><p>“Yes..?” Alastor himself was skeptical of his own question. </p><p>“Why yes there are.” It chuckles. “In fact, you’re looking at one little doe. But how would you know something like this?” </p><p>“Just happened to hear it.” Alastor responds. It did not seem satisfied by this answer, pulling Alastor close to itself. </p><p>“The truth if you would. I wouldn’t want any secrets between us.” It rests both of its claws on Alastor’s shoulders, digging into them as a warning. </p><p>“Martin, he told me.” Alastor says hastily. It seems satisfied by Alastor’s quick response. </p><p>“How interesting, maybe I should pay him a visit.” It thinks to itself, not holding so tightly on Alastor’s shoulders anymore. </p><p>“I need him.” Alastor reminds It. </p><p>“Maybe later then.” It smiles widely, with Alastor not liking the implications of that statement. “Right now I need you though.” </p><p> “For what?” </p><p>“You see, I’m running out of your blood.” It has the audacity to sound sheepish. “It will be real quick I promise.” </p><p>“...That’s not the part that concerns me.” Alastor managed before It guides him to sit down, clearly not caring for Alastor’s input. It sits next to Alastor, a calculating look on Its screen. </p><p>“Arm please.” It says expectantly. Alastor hesitantly offers it, not liking how Its face lights up with delight when he does. It once again holds his arm tightly, creating a deep gash. Alastor ignores the stinging, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the itching in his limbs before whatever injection It gave him. Luckily, just like It promised, the action was sorted out quickly. But it still made him feel more tired than he was originally. Due to that he went to sleep early like he had been doing during the days he bothered to get up anymore. Even though he turned in for the night, he found himself unable to actually sleep. There was too much to think about, his brain refused to shut off. Everything Martin had told him about this Hell, the confusion surrounding himself and this Radio Demon and how the thing was related to all of this. He didn’t come up with any definitive answers, just threads of thought that seemed to form into nothing. Nothing connected with each other and how could anyone understand anything without seeing the larger picture. </p><p>“Are you awake yet?” </p><p>“Awake? What time is it?” Alastor sits up in his bed, holding his head. Days were starting to mesh together and there were still things he couldn’t remember. </p><p>“It’s about 12AM, did you stay up all night?” It cocks its box shaped head. </p><p>“No, why are you here?” Alastor pushes some of his hair back. </p><p>“You need your gauze changed.” It states. While Alastor moves to the edge of his bed. Alastor was always a little curious how It could use Its claw-like fingers so accurately, for things like this. There’s a knocking on Alastor’s door just when It finished removing all of the gauzes, which surprised both of them. “I’ll be listening little doe.” It gestures for Alastor to go answer. </p><p>Pulling his sleeves to hide his now open wounds, he winces when the fabric makes contact. But he heads over to the cabin front door, feeling slightly nauseous. Opening the door, he’s shocked by who’s standing there, who seems equally shocked by his appearance. </p><p>“Maman?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HHHHHHHHHHH</p><p>I swear I've lost my mind more while writing this, than Alastor has, living through this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shorter chapter this time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alastor can still register a strong surprise in his mother’s features. How terrible must he look at the moment? Regardless of his appearance, he needed her to get out of here now. Didn’t she get his letter? Had It not sent it even after promising to?? Did It plan on killing her? No! He wouldn’t let that happen, not on his life, or afterlife. </p><p>Alastor couldn’t help but be more nervous under his mother’s scrutiny. Her gaze appeared to harden more by the second, not looking pleased in the slightest. There were still many lingering traces of worry, but they were becoming less recognizable.</p><p>“What a surprise!” Alastor tries to sound cheery, despite the fatigue he was feeling. “I hadn’t...expected your arrival. And what, pray tell, has brought you here to my doorstep?” Alastor does a double take, realizing how ungrateful he was sounding. “N-not that I would ever mind! ...Did you not receive my letter?” Alastor awkwardly folds his hands, feeling significantly less confident seeing his mother give his display an unimpressed look. </p><p>“Why yes, yes I did receive your letter.” She holds eye contact with him. “So tell me, what am I supposed to think?” There’s a hint of desperation in her voice. “Your letter? Horrid, barely readable handwriting, terrible folding job and nothing on the envelope?” </p><p>“Oh that’s nothing to be concerned about, my arm just happened to be involved in an accident--” </p><p>“Maybe so, but not only that, Martin calls me asking for you.” She pushes the matter. “You know what he asks? ‘Where’s Alastor, he hasn’t showed up to work in awhile and I can’t manage to contact him.’”</p><p>“Well that’s--” </p><p>“So I come here, with you looking like you’re on death's door.” She appears distraught now, her voice softening from the sharper tone it had held. “What happened? Oh darling, what happened?” </p><p>“Maman I--I’m fine.” Alastor’s earlier smile shrinks. “Really!” </p><p>“What a terrible liar you are Ally, and what did I tell you about lying?” Alastor internally denies the statement, he was an excellent liar thank you very much, but lying to his mother was a different matter entirely… “Well?” She startles him out of his thoughts. </p><p>“To never do it…” </p><p>“As long as you remember at least.” She glances to the door behind him. “Are you going to invite me inside? I’d rather continue this conversation inside where it is warm.” </p><p>“But I’ve no time to prepare! Frankly it’s in no state to be visited.” Alastor responds hastily, not wanting her anywhere near his cabin. Not when he didn’t know what It was planning. She doesn’t seem to take his excuse, walking past him into the cabin. Alastor covers the panic he’s feeling, knowing there was no way he was getting her out now, not without appearing more suspicious to her than he already was. He does keep glancing around their surroundings, looking for any signs of It. </p><p>“Did someone else move here that you didn’t tell me about?” She seems to have noticed his constant glances. </p><p>“....No.” Alastor responds halfheartedly, not looking her way. Although he quickly looks her way again when he hears her gasp. She’s staring at the sorry state of his kitchen, and Alastor feels shame surround his being. He’d completely forgotten to do anything about it. </p><p>“How can you live like this?!” Alastor averts his gaze from her accusatory one. “I’m disappointed, is this why you didn’t want me in here?” Alastor internally grimaces, knowing what he had to do. </p><p>“Yes, you see I’ve been resting from that accident of mine. I truly hadn’t the time to be in the kitchen for all this time.” His mother has a thoughtful expression, before it settles for concern once more. </p><p>“When was the last time you’ve had a meal then?” She reaches for one of his hands, not liking how slender it felt. Alastor makes no move to stop her, relishing in the comforting contact. </p><p>“I was just going to prepare myself one today.” Alastor still couldn’t stomach the thought of food. He certainly had no intentions of ingesting any. </p><p>"You keep making all these statements, trying to prove everything’s fine. Please tell me, qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” She lifts her hand to rest on his upper arm, in a show of comfort, but Alastor pulls back with a hiss of pain, as if he had been burned. Alastor takes a step back, inspecting the spot quickly, before looking back to his mother with an attempted reassuring smile. </p><p>“C'est bon, ce n'est qu'une petite blessure.” Alastor says, slipping into French naturally, as she feels her frustrations boil over. Alastor could be so stubborn when he wanted to, why couldn’t he just admit that something was wrong? He was so incredibly bad at hiding it too, Alastor’s mother thought with a huff. </p><p>“Look Ally, I know something is--” </p><p>“Sincèrement, nothing is--” </p><p>“Alastor Rémi LeBlanc!” </p><p>Alastor shuts himself up very quickly. Alastor’s mother takes a long breath, calming herself for what she was going to say next. Alastor waits impatiently, not wanting to invoke her wrath, but also not wanting her to worry. </p><p>“When you were moving out, what did I tell you?” She gestures for him to give his arm to her again, she wanted to survey the damage inflicted onto it. </p><p>“You said a lot of things.” Alastor feels her pull up his sleeve, watching anxiously. She stares silently in shock at the nasty looking burn that surrounded his upper arm. </p><p>“I told you to take care of yourself.” She takes another look at his form. His paleness most notable to her. “And this isn’t it.” Alastor makes no move to deny her. </p><p>“You have to understand Ally, you’re all I’ve got. I can’t tell you how important you are to me.” Alastor can’t help but feel guilty, there was nothing he could do about it though. The situation wasn’t in his control, no matter how much that bothered him. He stays silent, not having the energy to argue with her anymore. “I warned you that I’d take you right back home if I found out something like this was happening.” There’s a finality and firmness in her voice. </p><p>“Maman, tu ne peux pas faire ça!!” Alastor protests, before being silenced with a look from his mother. </p><p>“You may not want to tell me what’s going on, but I am not going to stand by and watch as this goes on.” She goes on, guiding him into the living room, while inspecting the state of it. In the room she felt an odd, chilling sensation wash over her, but she brushes it off, focusing back on Alastor. “For now, at least let me treat you to some food, there’s no way you’ve eaten in awhile. Besides, I’ve got the ingredients prepared already back at home.” </p><p>“I couldn’t possibly trouble you so.” Alastor responds, still not being able to think of food in a positive manner. </p><p>“Oh hush.” She is quick to counter. Alastor thinks to himself, would the thing mind his absence? It hadn’t said anything about him not being allowed to visit his mother. He’d been gone longer without the thing overreacting. Spending time with his mother just sounded so appealing, so safe...Alastor couldn’t find it in himself to refuse the offer. He needed this. </p><p>“Allons-y alors.” Alastor’s expression changes into a more genuine smile. </p><p>--</p><p>Vox curses internally, fuck, now he was going to be bored out of his mind again. Of course Mama Doe would go into ultra motherly protective mode, Al didn’t exactly look his best, even Vox could admit that. And of course Al, being the momma’s boy he was would go for dinner. Welp, looks like he either had to spam Velvet or entertain himself somehow. He’d already counted various things in the house to alleviate boredom. One time he’d even dared to go explore the surrounding wilderness, ironically some deer had gotten curious about him. Vox turned out to be quite the deer whisperer it seemed. Wasn’t that an amusing thought in itself. </p><p>Vox pulls out his phone, going over to the contact information of Velvet. Before that, he can see Val’s info, why Vox hadn’t deleted it yet, he didn’t know. It was hardly useful to him anymore. Clicking on his correspondence with Velvet, he lets her know just how bored he was, in a multitude of messages. With no reply, Vox groans and allows his eyes to land on a grand piano that was in the corner of the living room. With no other ideas for entertainment, he saunters over inspecting the piano closer. It certainly was from the early 20th century with hand craftsmanship, but clearly Al had kept it in good shape. </p><p>Vox pulls the piano stool back, taking a seat, batting his coattails out of the way. Then he opens the cover, seeing the keys below. Vox had no idea what he should play, but before that he’d have to at least start with a warmup, maybe some scales if he felt up to it. It’s not like he was performing to anyone anyway. The first piece that came to mind was Hungarian Rhapsody No.6, damn Al, making him play Lizst just to be the little shit he was. Maybe Vox deserved it for making Alastor suffer with Paganini’s pieces on the violin, but it had still been worth it. Vox’s mood sours a bit at the memory, fuckin’ Al and his disappearing act after what he’d done. </p><p>Vox starts the warmup, sizing up his accuracy and the pedals. A metronome would’ve been nice, but obviously that was too much to ask for. After a good five minutes, Vox deems himself ready, although not feeling it mentally. </p><p>Starting the piece, Vox can already tell he’s not in the right tempo. In the middle a few notes started to go amiss, and he thinks he played a few too many flats. He was going on muscle memory here, no sheet music. Especially towards the end Vox feels himself a little behind, right hand especially having trouble keeping up. It was safe to say that Vox was very glad when he finished playing the piece, or finished trying to play the piece. What a mess his playing had been, luckily either Al couldn’t laugh at his poor performance now. Although, as the thought crosses his mind, he feels a presence, a very familiar one. Vox scans the room, he had to be imagining things, there was no way...As he thought, there was no sign of anyone but him, and the feeling had gone too. Yet, he’d felt it before too, when this Al had been at the phone. Vox slumps in the stool, it had to just be wishful thinking, even as much as that hurt to admit. He closes his eyes, sitting in silence for a moment. </p><p>Breaking the silence, Vox grabs his phone from atop the piano checking to see if Velvet had responded to him yet. Much to his disappointment, there was nothing, and once again Vox is met with Val’s contact info. Vox pauses on it, then closes the phone entirely. </p><p>Staring at the keys again, Vox starts playing, the notes to Marche Funèbre coming automatically. He might’ve pressed a few notes too hard, but there was no one to call him out on it. And as if perfect timing, Velvet messages him back right after he finishes playing. Pushing the stool back, closing the lid to the piano, Vox leaves the instrument and focuses on talking to Velvet instead. A few times Vox wonders how Al is fairing at Mama Doe’s, but he always turns his attention back to his personal distraction.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm alive! I think...School has been really hard, and I just could not for the life of me get this chapter out. It took forever, my apologies. It's also shorter than previous chapters, and the quality...hmm...I'm not so sure. Anyways, about the fic.<br/>Literally no one lets Alastor finish what he's saying. </p><p>Vox, Martin and Alastor's mom: constantly interrupting and not taking Alastor seriously. </p><p>Alastor: Am I a joke to you?</p><p>It's infinitely funny to me, because like all the fanart of Human Alastor is just him being on top of everything. Very murderous and scary. Meanwhile me writing him: constantly confused, hurt and frustrated. Aren't I a great writer? hahahha, the answer is no.<br/>Anyways, It's like 3am again, bound to be many mistakes, so I'm going to leave this here and go recharge for a few hours.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alastor pauses for a moment, taking a look at the house in front of him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mamans house</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his childhood home. It had never looked more inviting than at that moment. With its simple unimposing structure and small garden out front. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the corner of his vision he can see his mother’s lips purse in contemplation or worry. Not that he could bring himself to care too much, he was fully entranced by his home. Moreso on what it meant to him, still means to him. All the memories, and not even the bad ones could dampen his mood. This—this was his true home, he was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> here. That alone lifts an imaginary weight from his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Interrupting him, his mother gently guides him inside the house itself. He follows along, keeping his gaze all over the place. Although, once inside, he turns his attention back to his mother. Her initial fears and worries for him seemed to have increased exponentially and he’d have to deal with that. The more worried she got, the more involved she’d get and the more involved she’d get would increase the danger to her. While It didn’t seem very interested in hurting her, Alastor did not doubt for a second that if she got in Its way, It would do something to her. Probably taunt Alastor while It was at it. So for now, he had to act natural, not like he had back at his cabin. He was good at acting, but some smaller part of him doubts his capability. Acting normal for other people was one thing, acting normal for maman was an entirely different thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You appear engrossed with your thoughts.” Alastor’s mother points out, clearly prodding for a response of some kind, her voice kind. “Anything you’d care to share?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor hums in thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, nothing you’d be very interested in hearing. I’ve simply a lot to attend to.” He keeps his response level and curt, not trusting himself fully. Alastor’s mother doesn’t pursue the matter, setting her shoes down and heading for the kitchen. Alastor does the same, leaving his shoes in an orderly manner there was no reason to be impolite after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doing a little once over, he makes note on how similar everything was. Nothing of great importance had changed from his days living here. It reminded him how closely his mother tended to cling to the past. Seemingly having trouble with change, but who was he to make such bold assumptions? Alastor brushes off the topic from his mind, intending to offer his assistance in the kitchen. Pointedly ignoring the uncomfortable pit in his stomach at the mention of food and the unsteadiness brought by his injuries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Might I offer my expertise?” Alastor suggests, not finding the ingredients appetizing. Even as he recognizes them as the beginning to an undebatably delicious Jambalaya. The feeling in his stomach grows, he loves his mother’s Jambalaya, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what’s wrong with him? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Burying his thoughts, Alastor hopes his face had remained passive through it, already struggling up to keep up his facade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be ridiculous, sit down Ally.” She huffs good naturedly, starting, or more like, finishing the cooking process. She’d clearly started earlier and not finished. Which was a concerning thought in itself. She’d left in a hurry to find him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you certain?” Alastor insists, as he always did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely, now sit.” She gestures to the table across the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“alright.” Alastor concedes, taking his usual seat at the table, watching her process. Cooking always seemed so natural to his mother, like second nature. Which meant it was quite interesting and impressive to watch. And if Alastor was being honest, a little humbling as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor watches her all the way up until she finishes, reaching for two bowls to pour the now finished Jambalaya in. And as she makes her way to him with the bowls, he prepares mentally for the upcoming conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although no such conversation appears to start. In fact, the opposite, a complete silence engulfs the room. The atmosphere grows increasingly heavier, as does Alastor’s mood as he tries to ingest the food in front of him, or try to start an amicable conversation. Needless to say he botched both, staring at his food staying completely silent. It was so simple, but he just—just could not </span>
  <em>
    <span>do it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Had he truly lost so much control in his life that even the simplest of things weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>up to him? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He continues his negative tangent, Completely missing the appraising look he receives from his mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile She’s concerned with her own thoughts, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’d never seen him outright reject her cooking before</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And seeing him do it now, it triggered a deep sense of worry in her. He looked so downtrodden, or well, not outwardly but she could tell that internally he wasn’t very happy. It seemed to have something to do with the injuries she’d seen on him. Yet he seemed so hesitant to discuss anything relating to them, almost panicking at the thought. She’d only seen this kind of behavior with certain people in her life, all who had the same issues, the same dynamic to their supposed partners. But she couldn’t jump to conclusions, it was a terrible one to arrive to and one she begged wasn’t the case. Anything but that, her sweet little Ally </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not </span>
  </em>
  <span>deserve that. If he was in that situation though, she would help him out if it. For now, she’d have to hope and be patient for him to tell her about his issues himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She says to Alastor, offering a reassuring smile. He tenses up at the topic a little, but she continues. “I just want you to know that you can always come to me, that you’ve always got a place here. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe </span>
  </em>
  <span>here and that I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor keeps his gaze trained on her, mind going blank as he processes the words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re safe here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They are such sweet words, sounding so comforting. But Alastor—he knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>better. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At that realization, it’s as if something in him breaks, some form of decency or perhaps some loss of his pride. Ignoring it completely, he breaks down, letting all of it out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor’s mother watches in horror as Alastor leans his head onto his hands, sobbing audibly. She can see his tears, his grief -stricken face, despite his attempts to hide it all, and her world </span>
  <em>
    <span>shatters</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’d only seen him cry once, he never cried, not unless something had gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>terribly wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not taking any more seconds to wonder about it all, she approaches him, pulling him into a hug. She can feel as he wraps his hands around her, latching on almost as if afraid that she’d leave him if he let go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor doesn’t care how pathetic he must’ve looked at the moment. All he could focus on was how everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>—the awful thing—it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>him and promised to never leave him alone, that he’d never get the choice to leave </span>
  <em>
    <span>It</span>
  </em>
  <span> alone. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trapped</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there was no way out. Not even death could bring him peace, </span>
  <em>
    <span>therewasnoescape. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t do this. Not this. An eternity of pain, of a lack of control, of humiliation—</span>
  <em>
    <span>submit </span>
  </em>
  <span>himself to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor lets out a strangled sob, and he feels his mother rub soothing motions on his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How was any of this </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fair</em>
  </b>
  <span>? How was any of this supposed to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense</span>
  </em>
  <span>? And...and what—</span>
  <b>
    <em>what</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> was he supposed to </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>do</em>
  </b>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stops himself, instead listening to the calming voice of his mother. It works, his cries grow quieter, as he continues clinging to his mother like a lifeline. And for intents and purposes, she might’ve been one. With how she continues to comfort him, bringing a sense of security back to his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continues holding him, all the way until his muffled sobs cease and he lets go. When she pulls back, she feels as if her heart was going to break all over again. Ally, her little Ally looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>devastated</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as if the whole world had turned upside down for him. She wanted nothing more than to smother him with love, to make him smile again as he always did, to fix all his problems or to wipe all his worries away. Instead she sets her hands on his shoulders, offering him the gentlest smile she can muster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I—I don’t want to talk about it.” Is all he says, casting his eyes down in a look that she recognized as shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that’s alright.” She reassures him. “I just wanted to remind you that I’m always here for whatever you need. Please trust me, let me help. I can’t tell you how it pains me to see you like this. You deserve so much more, I know because I love you so very much.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor meets her eyes again, offering a small, more fond smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know maman, and I do too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not happening.” Vox dismisses the idea without much thought. Velvet whines from the floor in front of him, not even bothering to sit up. She was tired, it was already late with the sun being down already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But why?” What’s the worst thing that could even happen?” Velvet insists, stretching her arms in front of her. She puts in his general direction, but it was going to take more than that to change his mind. Which he wasn’t going to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need him hating </span>
  <b>me</b>
  <span> more after talking with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Vox states, almost as a fact. Velvet takes great offense to the accusation, actually sitting up to meet his screen properly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid even I can’t make him hate you more than he already does.I mean you outdid yourself in that department.” Velvet gives him an unimpressed expression as he scowls in her vague direction. What did Velvet know about the situation anyway? “I can compromise you to him if you’d like.” She adds sarcastically. Velvet had no doubts that if Alastor could kill Vox, he would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vitun Swedupelle.” Vox grumbles under his breath as Velvet rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re terrible you know.” She says nonchalantly, trying to figure out why he was in such a mood, he had been quite cheery earlier. Regardless of the reason she’d have to be careful around him now, he was going to be especially volatile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Velvet decides to get up from the floor and sit on one of the actual chairs in Al’s small little cabin. In the process she ends up knocking over Vox’s glass that was situated on the table behind her. This prompts a downward shift in Vox’s mood as he takes a sharp intake of breath, or makes the sound of taking one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Velvet feels bad for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to spiral again.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure this is what you want? To mess with this reality?” She asks carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t get it, none of you do!” Vox stands up abruptly, appearing restless. “Look--how do I break this to all of you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. And what did I fucking get? All that time and effort, everything was fine, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>it was supposed to be</span>
  </em>
  <span>! But fuck me I guess! He was just using--messing with me, the little shit told me himself, and then had the absolute nerve to </span>
  <em>
    <span>just disappear</span>
  </em>
  <span>! No explanation, nothing! So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck that Alastor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck this Alastor</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Am I really supposed to care that I’m hurting </span>
  <em>
    <span>his feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span>? No! I’m taking what I want, what I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>owed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Vox halts his tirade as quickly as he started it, still visibly agitated. It was easy to tell he’d been thinking about all of this again, probably while Alastor was away. It does nothing quell the anger growing inside Velvet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why did he have to be so selfish? What about how she felt, all she did for him? What about </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Val</em>
  </b>
  <span>? It takes every ounce of her self control to not start yelling back at him. It would be of no use, no one could reason with him when he was like this, and it would make everything infinitely worse. So she swallows her anger for later and settles for asking about his well being. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Vox says with an air of finality, he really thought that he was. Velvet would never understand how he could think all of this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we should sleep on this.” Velvet suggests instead, likely projecting her own tiredness onto him. She had already felt drained and this was not helping things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not tired.” Vox responds, fiddling with his coat lapels. Velvet groans internally, he should’ve told her </span>
  <em>
    <span>he was doing it again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was so hard to tell, although she should’ve known by his fracturing attention span. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing it again.” She tells him, and he groans in frustration. Ignoring her statement he makes for the front door, clearly intending to just up and leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vox--</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to talk about it.” He slams the door behind him, leaving Velvet behind at Al’s cabin. She curses under her breath, kicking a chair out of her way. If he wanted to be like that, then let him be. Be like the little petulant child he was. See if she cares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Velvet heads to sleep instead, not wanting to deal with the drama further. She could talk this out later with Vox, not that it would be any easier then, at least she wouldn't be so incredibly tired then. But Vox didn’t come back the next morning, and so Velvet decided to disregard Vox’s refusal for her to visit the only other person that mattered in this timeline. She was bored already and was feeling spiteful. Let her visit him, he’d surely be more fun than Vox was being right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, Alastor’s mother did not want to leave for work. She wanted to stay and continue comforting Alastor, maybe coax the truth out of him. He looked so torn, so hopeless. How could she not have noticed? How long had this been going on? She had so many questions, and an even bigger amount of concerns. He wouldn’t try anything rash while she was gone, would he? She hadn’t seen any indication, but she’d have to finish work quickly. He needed her, and she was going to be there for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She finishes writing her note to Alastor, telling him where she was for when he woke up that morning. Oh if only she could take the day off, but she was lucky to even have a job at all. There’d be no excuse for taking a day off. She signs the note with a reminder of how she loved him. It would have to do for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor had woken a few hours ago, but he didn’t feel up to getting up. He had failed, in every meaning of the word. There was no fathomable way to convince his mother he was fine anymore, hell, he couldn’t even convince himself. Nothing was fine, and with the way things are going, nothing will ever be fine ever again. That made everything impossible and doing anything utterly pointless. But no matter what he did or didn’t do he’d be living, or perhaps dying, this hell. There was no out, no mercy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor rolls to his other side, desperately wishing for a distraction of some kind. He looks to the small shelf above his bed, eyes tracing all the different book titles. Most of them he’d read, actually, all of them he’d read. If he wanted to find something, he’d have to head over to the hallway bookshelves. Alastor weighs his options, deciding to follow his need to alleviate boredom. And after a few minutes of him getting the will to stand up, saunters to the bookshelves, not caring for the type, anything would do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of the books are remarkably similar and he reaches into the closest one, selecting a book with little care. But his endeavor is stopped as a bigger, noticeably worn out black leather bound book catches his attention. It was so out of place among the deep red colored, fairly new looking books surrounding it. Alastor, abandoning the book in front of him, walks closer, trying to decipher the title. Reading it, he was not disappointed, something akin to excitement runs through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Loa</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor removes it from the shelf, inspecting it further. It had clearly been read multiple times and was an expensive looking book as well. Turning the front page, Alastor recognizes his father's handwriting, which would explain some things. Why had he left the book here though? He must’ve been fond of it and it was valuable beyond sentimental value. But what did all that matter, Alastor was curious. Beyond curious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He’d have to keep his mother from discovering, she always told him these sorts of matters were dangerous. With all he’d seen with the existence of It and Martin’s recollections of Hell, Alastor could understand her fears now. Still, if The Loa were all they were supposed to be, he may have a new option to him now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor felt his lips tug upwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly returned to his room, book in hand. Despite all his excitement to read about The Loa he couldn’t actually get himself to read the pages. He stared at the peculiar design, waiting for himself to get the energy to invest into its knowledge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His waiting is interrupted by a knocking at the door. Had his mother already returned? Alastor rushes to hide his book, feeling like a misbehaving child again, and makes for the door. It wasn’t very far from his room and he steels himself mentally, in case it was a stranger. He couldn’t imagine that that was the case, but nevertheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening the door, he doesn’t even bother to hide his shock. In front of him stood a girl(?), demon, with two messy pigtails, weird make-up choices and an interesting looking dress. She was a bit taller than him and looked absolutely ecstatic to see him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hel--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He promptly slams the door in front of her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox felt annoyingly restless, wanting to do something constantly but not actually wanting to put effort into anything. He’d walked to the surrounding nature of Al’s cabin, only stopping once he encountered the deer from before. They were curious of him again, a few sniffing him and one being bold enough to lick him. Vox didn’t bother to stop any of them, and sat down, letting them sate their curiosity of him. It was a little nice too, the deer were quite cute after all. If only Al could be this nice…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox sat there the whole night, talking to the deer despite them not being able to understand. Come morning, he continued sitting there, company gone and his energy much the same. It was pissing him off. He was too tired to do anything, but too bored to do nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally after an hour of debating with himself he picked himself up, deciding to head back to the cabin. If he was lucky, Velvet had dropped the subject of last night. He doubted that heavily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his way back, a weird abandoned building catches his attention. It looked eerie and imposing, while drawing Vox to it. How hadn’t he seen it during any of the other times he’d been exploring? It wasn’t very big, so it was possible he’d simply missed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox touches the big glass pane window, inspecting the inside with mild curiosity. A curiosity that quickly vanishes as he draws back from the window, intending to continue his path back to the cabin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His movements are halted when he feels a familiar presence hit him full force. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was right behind</span>
  </em>
  <span>--how could that be? Vox turns around sharply, taking in the change on the glass pane. A painfully familiar figure stands just beyond it, grinning as usual. Vox drinks in the sight, his brain short circuiting and expression stunned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Alastor</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Vox says breathlessly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor seems pleased by Vox’s stunned silence. Although he ignores it, passing through the glass and practically invaded Vox’s personal space, not that Vox had ever minded. Alastor doesn’t say anything, watching Vox carefully, mistrust evident. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where—where have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>been?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Vox breaks the silence, not sure if he was hallucinating or not. It had been decades since he’d last seen the deer demon, and now—why now? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s an odd question for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people to be asking. Shouldn’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Alastor responds quickly with clear distaste and a hint of annoyance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox is taken aback, how was he supposed to know? What was he missing here? Had something happened while Al was gone? Vox feels his mind be bombarded by millions of questions. Yet, words fail him at that moment. He feels overwhelmed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How would I…” Vox trails off, not knowing how to continue. Still unable to continue his line of questioning, Vox let’s his gaze wander, scrutinizing the deer demon. His eyes lock onto the fluffy tufts of ears that are atop Alastor’s head. Vox had missed them, he missed a lot of things about Alastor. The deer demon senses Vox’s interest and takes a few steps back, much to Vox’s dismay. Vox had been waiting </span>
  <em>
    <span>so long </span>
  </em>
  <span>just to talk to Alastor, and now that he was here, Vox couldn’t say any of the things he’d been wanting to for so long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that Alastor was a bit further away, Vox could see that drops of red were falling down Alastor’s body from his chest at an alarming rate. So much so that it formed a trail of red where Alastor had walked. It was blood--there was so much of it everywhere. Vox feels concern take over his confused mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why was Alastor bleeding so much? The actual wound would have to be big to cause this. Why wasn’t he doing anything about it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re injured--how did you get--” Vox pauses, questions later, help now. “--Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This question changes Alastor’s whole demeanor. The calm changing to a split second expression of hurt and then to one of indifference with an undertone of anger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“How</span> <span>can </span><b><em>you </em></b><span>ask that?” The pained expression overtakes Alastor’s features again. “Pretend to act so innocent so--so--</span><em><span>confused</span></em><span>.” </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox begins to respond but Alastor beats him to it, continuing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not knowing where I’ve been? Not knowing about this wound? There’s no way you wouldn’t know.” When Alastor turns around, Vox can clearly see the deep gash. It went across the entirety of Alastor’s chest and had a silver-whitish glow. That meant--There’s no way any demon could survive that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No no no…this couldn’t be happening.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alastor ignores the distressed expression from Vox. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Considering that it was </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>you </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>who killed </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>me</em>
  </b>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox stumbles a step back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the very long delay. I've been studying for my exams this past month, still am, but I felt the urge to write after such a long time. I really do like writing these little fics of mine, and even more so with all the support I get, it means more than I could ever convey. Thank you to everyone who has stuck by, read, given kudos or left comments! I read every single one and they all brighten my day and motivate me to write more! So thank you, you are all appreciated. </p><p>As for the story, as usual, I had to write it at an ungodly hour, so there will be spelling mistakes, other issues with no proofreading and no French. And now there are so many new things introduced to the plot of the story, so many...</p><p>Velvet, appearing in front of Alastor's door excited: Hello! I'm the new demon that came to torment your life! </p><p>Alastor, being 1100% done and without hesitation slams the door: N o. </p><p>Meanwhile with Vox,</p><p>Vox: *the slightest inconvenience happens*</p><p>Vox: My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. Now let me ruin everyone else's day by being dramatic about it.</p><p>Also Vox though: *is Disney princess with his army of deer*</p><p>sdhahdahdadahdakj, I'm not sane after weeks of math, but I hope you all enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have another multi-chaptered fanfiction going on right now with this pair. I hope it's somewhat interesting, it was fun to write :)</p><p>So feedback, or comments of any kind would be incredibly useful to me! Even if it's just to say 'this is a piece of trash I'd never read'. </p><p>Thank you for your time.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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